


you know that it takes two (luckily he wants to do you too)

by rainbowsandgucci



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Bottom Eddie, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom Richie, Dom/sub, Eddie has kinks, Hands, I Want That Twink Obliterated, M/M, Overstimulation, Richie has kinks for Eddie having kinks, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut, Top Richie, because fuck that clown, it's about the hands, no jk eddie gets railed, speaking of, sub Eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21578554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowsandgucci/pseuds/rainbowsandgucci
Summary: The first time Eddie realizes he’s developed a pavlovian response to having Richie’s hand covering his mouth during sex, it’s one month and two weeks after they’ve moved into their first apartment together.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 76
Kudos: 982





	you know that it takes two (luckily he wants to do you too)

**Author's Note:**

> listen i woke up one day after three weeks of scrollin the tag going :/ @ all the top eddie and decided if i want smth done right im gonna have to do it MYSELF
> 
> so. here's eddie getting dicked down like he deserves :)
> 
> again, dom top richie rights!

The first time Eddie realizes he’s developed a pavlovian response to having Richie’s hand covering his mouth during sex, it’s one month and two weeks after they’ve moved into their first apartment together. 

They’re fresh out of college, both working their asses off to be able to afford an apartment in New York, but they’re together, they’re _happy_, and really, that’s all that matters.

Like any young adults that, for the first time in their entire lives, have complete and total privacy, they spend their first month in their new home fucking on every available surface at any possible moment. It’s gotten to the point that if they’re both home, Eddie doesn’t even bother getting fully dressed most of the time, because he _knows_ that as soon as Richie sees him, the clothes will be off _anyway_. 

Of course, Eddie walking around in just one of Richie’s tshirts is more for teasing than it is for ease of access, but it’s not like Richie’s about to complain, so Eddie’s going to continue to—as Richie puts it—walk around like a fucking _tease_ every hour of the god damn day.

So, they spend the first month fucking like rabbits, meaning Eddie doesn’t have _time_ to think about anything he may or may not be missing. He loses track of how many times he’s been fucked over the kitchen table, loses track of how many times Richie’s eaten him out on the couch, and if he’s on his knees more than he’s on his feet in the kitchen, then that’s his own business, thank you very much. Eventually though, the christening phase ends, and now they’re back to fucking in bed six times out of ten like a normal couple. And the thing is, the _thing _about it is, now that they’re fucking in bed again like they have been since they got together during their freshman year of college, Eddie’s well, he’s _missing_ certain things.

He doesn’t miss living in the dorms, not even for a _second_. He likes having an actual queen sized bed (cue Richie’s jokes about Eddie being a _size queen_), likes having an actual bedroom, and likes that he doesn’t have to hear everything his neighbors are doing at all hours of the day and night.

What he _does_ miss though, apparently, is the fact that Richie doesn’t have to cover his mouth anymore during sex, since their neighbors either can’t hear them, or really don’t seem to mind—which is something Eddie chooses not to think about—that their neighbors are a couple of horny young adults that can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other. 

It’s a habit Richie had quickly gotten into, after their third or fourth time fucking, when he’d realized that Eddie is a _screamer_. Richie’s not exactly quiet either, but his noises more consist of dirty talk (_Yeah you like that baby? Like when I fuck you so good you cry? Yeah you fucking do, you’re such a slut for me._) and the occasional moan that always gets muffled while he marks the fuck out of Eddie’s neck and chest and whatever else he can reach from whatever position he’s in.

Eddie though? He moans, he screams, he _whines_, and sometimes, usually after an hour and Richie either making him come too much or not at all, he cries. He curses and he _sobs_ and he’s just so _fucking_ loud that, while they’d been around other people, Richie had _had_ to muffle it somehow; so, he’d made a point of clasping his _big strong fucking huge_ hand over Eddie’s mouth and now Eddie has a fucking complex. 

He first realizes that it’s going to be an issue while he’s lying on his front, Richie pounding into him from behind and pinning his wrists on either side of his head. They’ve been going at it for nearly _two hours _now, because it’s a Saturday afternoon and neither of them has anywhere to be all weekend so Richie’s decided he’s going to fuck Eddie like it’s his fucking _job_.

Eddie’s crying, his full body pressed into the mattress and entirely _soaked_ with sweat as he sobs and Richie fucks him like he’s a ragdoll. He’d given up trying to push back into Richie’s thrusts, or beg, or really, participate at all after the third time he’d told Richie he was close and Richie had just fucking _pulled out_.

The second time, he’d started cussing up a storm, tried propping himself up so he could flip over and fully give Richie a piece of his mind, but Richie had just laughed at him and pressed his forearm across his back and Eddie couldn’t fucking _move_. He’d gone silent, once he’d realized he was pressed into the bed with nowhere to go and with no way of doing anything until Richie let him, and then he’d moaned like a whore and gone limp. 

Richie is an asshole, so he just laughed again, and pushed back inside Eddie’s pliant body, his hot breath hitting the back of Eddie’s neck as he’d moved. “Look at you sweetheart, you love this don’t you? Love how I can just pin you down and use you, and you can’t do _shit_ about it, can you?”

Eddie felt a _jolt_, deep in the pit of his stomach, and he’d whined, but nodded anyway, all of the fight gone, just like that. “I love it Rich, fucking love it so much.”

Richie had laughed _again_, and then he moved so he was upright again, a hand still pressed between Eddie’s shoulderblades, and he’d let loose.

That had been _ages_ ago, and now Eddie’s crying, trying to _beg_ for Richie to let him come, but he can’t get anything longer than _ple-_ out because Richie’s fucking him so hard and fast, he can’t catch his fucking _breath_. 

Because Richie’s the best boyfriend in the world, who knows everything about Eddie and who can probably read his fucking _mind_, he grabs the hair at the back of Eddie’s head, and uses the grip to turn his head at a delightfully painful angle so they’re making eye contact for the first time in over an hour. Eddie’s breath _hitches_, because god he fucking loves Richie so fucking much, and he sobs.

“_Richie_.”

Richie grins, fucks into him _hard_, and watches as Eddie’s now free hand grabs uselessly at the sheets. He’s sweating, flushed down to his chest, but he still looks so fucking _smug_ and it’s the hottest thing Eddie’s ever seen in his god damn life. 

“Yeah baby? You need something?”

He thrusts again, and Eddie lets out a cry, trying to nod even with the grip Richie has on him. “_Please_,” he gasps, his eyes fluttering shut briefly, “can I come? I’ve been—been so _good. _Just n-need to come.”

Richie shushes him. “Oh honey I know, you’ve been so good, such a good little _toy_ for me aren’t you?”

Eddie sobs again. “_Please Richie_, please I—”

Richie releases his hair, lets his hand slide around to rest on Eddie’s cheek and whispers, “Okay baby, _okay_, you can come, you’re such a good boy for me, you can let go Eds.”

Eddie comes almost immediately, and it feels _good_, like, of fucking course it does. But the whole fucking time all he can focus on is Richie’s hand on his cheek, and how it’s _not on his mouth_, practically gagging him and holding him in place. 

He fucking _needs it_, he realizes as he shuts his eyes and goes lax as Richie continues to fuck into him until he comes; needs Richie’s hand there, because _somehow_, his brain took something meant to just keep him quiet, and turned it into a fucking _brand_ and a mark of ownership and now without it he’s fucking _bereft_. He feels out of place and lost and he _needs_ it and _fuck_.

After Richie comes, he begins pressing kisses to the back of Eddie’s neck, and his hands move to his waist to begin rubbing there and up and down his back and sides. Eddie sighs, relaxing into the touch, and a lazy smile forms on his lips.

Richie must notice, because he giggles, and squeezes lightly at Eddie’s hips. “You good baby?”

Eddie giggles too, his feelings from moments earlier fading away completely, and nods, one of his hands reaching up to tug one of Richie’s curls. “_So_ good, babe, love your dick.”

Richie snorts, then pulls out, so he can flop onto the bed next to Eddie. He’s smiling, looks sated and happy, and his hand comes up to brush some of Eddie’s sweaty-gross hair out of his eyes. “You really do only keep me around for Richie Jr. don’t you? I’m just a walking, talking dildo to you.”

Eddie laughs, shakes his head and hides it in the crook of his arm. “Don’t call your dick that, jesus christ that’s horrible.”

Richie laughs again, then a second later, he’s cuddled up against Eddie, scooping him into his arms and pressing kisses to his face until Eddie’s looking at him again. “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?”

Eddie feels his cheeks begin to heat up, and he presses a kiss to Richie’s cheek. “And your dick isn’t the only reason I keep you around.” Richie huffs out a surprised laugh.

“Oh? It's not?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nope,” He bites his lip to try and suppress his grin, then pokes Richie’s cheek, “I keep you around for your mouth too.”

Richie bursts into a full belly laugh, and a moment later, Eddie’s laughing too, earlier epiphany completely forgotten.

-

The next time Eddie’s forced to remember his _problem_, is two weeks later, while Richie’s gone on a three day weekend trip to fucking _Chicago_ for work. Eddie knows the details, knows _why_ Richie’s not going to be home until Sunday night, but right now, it’s two in the morning, he’s horny as _fuck_, and all he cares to know is that Richie’s _not fucking here_.

He’d woken up an hour ago, hard and aching in his pajama shorts, and had let out a, quite frankly, pathetic whine when he’d reached out for Richie only to remember that he’s _gone_. He’d be glad that Richie wasn’t present to hear him make that noise, but then he realizes that if he _had_, he wouldn’t have been able to control himself (because Eddie being _desperate_ just does that to him) and Eddie would be halfway to an orgasm by now.

Instead, Eddie’s alone, rocking his hard cock halfheartedly into the bed beneath him, letting out pitiful whines and pouting because how the _fuck_ is he supposed to deal with this?

Rationally, he knows he can get himself off. Knows he could turn over and jerk himself off and he’d probably come within like, five minutes because he’d be thinking about Richie and that never fails. He debates that for a moment, mostly because he's thinking about the reaction he’d get from Richie when he sent the picture of himself afterwards, as per Richie’s _rules_, but then decides against it because he’d much rather have Richie talking him through it than just reacting to it. 

Besides, if he can’t have Richie _inside_ him, then at the very _least _he needs him telling him what to do.

So, it’s two in the morning for Eddie, one for Richie, when Eddie calls him because he’s _horny_ and Richie’s fucking ruined him for anyone else _including_ himself. God he’s such an asshole.

The phone rings four times before Richie picks up, his voice groggy and tired sounding when he mumbles, “Eds? You ‘kay?”

Instead of responding, because he’s _desperate_, and he hasn’t used it in a while, Eddie whines, “_Daddy_, I need you.”

There’s a beat of silence, then a sharp exhale followed by the sounds of Richie shifting in bed. “Jesus _fuck_ baby, are you trying to fucking _kill me_?”

Eddie giggles, the sound breathy but still with an underlying thread of desperation to it. “No just…” He sighs. “I woke up _hard_ and I was gonna—” He swallows, trying to fight back the slightly embarrassed blush that he still gets even though they’ve done _countless_ filthy things in the last several years. “I was gonna get off but I wanted you to…”

He lets himself trail off, the tips of his ears _burning_, and Richie chuckles on the other end, his voice still thick with that sexy-growl from sleep. “_God_ even in your sleep you’re a slut. Just always thinking about daddy’s cock aren’t you baby?”

Eddie whines, the hand not holding the phone sliding up and down his own bare thigh a couple times before he digs his fingertips into his own skin. “Yeah Daddy, always a slut for you, I’m thinking about it all the fucking time.”

Richie groans. “God baby, are you touching yourself yet?”

Eddie shakes his head. “No Daddy, I—can you tell me…”

“Of course honey, are you wearing anything?”

“My purple shorts and your Nirvana shirt.” Richie lets out an amused huff, and Eddie pouts. “I _miss you_ Daddy.”

Richie laughs, sounding _fond_ now. “I know baby, I miss you too, miss your eyes and your hair and your smile…”

Eddie’s red in the face now for a completely different reason, and he’s smiling so hard his thinks his face might break from it. “Ugh, you’re such a fucking sap Rich.”

Richie hums. “Oh baby, that wasn’t very nice, are you sure you want to come tonight?”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, the sweet moment immediately snapping back to the tense atmosphere from earlier. “I—”

Richie shushes him. “I think you should take your clothes off baby, mouthy little whores don’t get to stay in their daddy’s clothes.”

Eddie moans, and immediately puts the phone on speaker before stripping himself of his clothes, tossing them god knows where. Once he finishes, he grabs the phone again, and sets it next to his head so he can hear Richie while still having full use of both hands. “Okay Daddy, I’m done.” 

Richie hums again, like he still hasn’t figured out what he’s going to do with Eddie. The thought sends a shudder through Eddie’s body. 

“Alright baby, I want you to grab the lube and finger yourself, start with one finger.”

Eddie lets out a whine, his lower lip sticking out. “But _Daddy_—”

Richie tsks. “You know baby, I was feeling pretty nice but I don’t think I’m gonna let you touch your pretty little dick now.”

Eddie gasps, feels like the breath has been _punched_ out of his body, and quickly scrambles for their drawer handle of their end table. Once he has the lube, he settles back on the bed. “I’m sorry Daddy I’m sorry, I have it now.” Richie chuckles, and suddenly, Eddie’s aware of the sounds coming from the background. He’s _touching_ himself, Eddie realizes, and suddenly all he wants is Richie’s dick in his fucking mouth. He whimpers, shuts his eyes, and licks his lips. “Daddy, I want your cock in my mouth so fucking bad.”

Richie moans, the sound partially shocked, and Eddie has a brief moment to feel smug before Richie’s moan trails off into a sentence, “Baby, if you don’t get your finger in your slutty little hole in the next thirty seconds, I’m hanging up.”

He’s serious, deadly so, and Eddie’s breath hitches as he finally slides the first finger inside himself. The initial stretch is nice, it _always_ is, because _yeah_ _okay _Eddie’s a little bit of a slut for anything being inside him, but even though it’s only the first one, he knows it’s not going to be anywhere _near_ as satisfying as Richie’s are, and he wants to cry.

“_Daddy_ I want your fingers so bad.”

“I know you do honey, yours are so fucking tiny aren’t they?” He waits for Eddie to breathe out a hitched little _uh-huh_, then continues, “God can you even feel that baby? Bet it feels like fucking _nothing_ doesn’t it?”

And the thing is. It fucking _does_. Eddie’s not actually _that_ small, in fact, he likes to think he’s pretty averagely sized, but the way Richie says it. The _condescension_ in his tone paired with the matter of fact way he’s talking and the knowledge that Richie’s too far away to even replace Eddie’s fingers with his own much bigger ones brings tears to Eddie’s eyes. His face is _hot_, he’s turned on as _fuck_ and it’s too much and not enough all at the same fucking time.

“No Daddy I _can’t_, need you to make me feel good, you _know_ that.” He sounds whiny, he _knows_ he does, and he also knows that it drives Richie _insane_. 

“Of course baby, that’s why you called and woke me up right? Can’t even get yourself off without me, add another finger honey.”

Eddie sobs out a sound of relief, and adds another finger, the slight stretch enough to make him throw his head back and groan. Richie chuckles, still sounding perfectly put together even though Eddie _knows_ he’s probably flushed down to his chest and hard as _fuck _and just as turned on as Eddie himself is. 

It takes Richie talking him up to three fingers for Eddie to remember his _dilemma_ from the last time they’d gotten rough, and the realization has him pausing his movements for a full five seconds. Up until now, he’d been envisioning Richie’s dick in his mouth as he made him finger himself, had thought about Richie choking him until he was crying and out of breath and then still forcing him to take more.

Then, Richie says, “God if I was fucking there I’d shove my fingers in your mouth, make you get them wet so I could fuck you with them. Replace your tiny fingers with my own and make you _scream_ baby.”

Eddie freezes, the thought _too fucking much_ for a moment, before he sucks in a shaky, shuddering breath and cries out. “Daddy _please_ I want—”

Richie sounds strained when he answers, fucking _finally_. “What baby? What do you want? Tell Daddy what you need.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, clutches at the pillow beside his head and turns so he’s facing the phone as he answers, fucking himself with enough force that he can _almost_ imagine it’s Richie. Almost.

“I want—_need_ your hand Daddy, b-been thinking about it. How your hand covers my m-mouth—” he hits his prostate, _keens_, and licks his lips before continuing, “—makes me f-feel so fucking small Daddy, when you push me into the bed and make me j-just shut up and _take it_, like I’m _yours _and it’s what I’m _supposed _to do.”

Richie lets out a _moan_, a full on, loud one like he hardly ever does, and Eddie lets out a loud whimper in response and _comes_.

He spaces out for a _while_, and when he finally regains his senses, it’s to the sound of Richie quietly humming over the phone, like he always does when he can’t physically reach out and hold Eddie as he comes down. It brings a smile to Eddie’s face, and he turns over on his side so he’s facing the phone, the noise making Richie’s humming stop.

“Eds, are you with me?”

Eddie lets out a satisfied hum. “Yeah, ‘m here.”

Richie chuckles. “Okay good, one of these days we’ll remember to facetime so I can actually see you while you come down, think that would make me feel better.”

Eddie smiles, his chest warming with how _loved_ even the idea makes him. “Next time I wake up horny I’ll facetime you instead of just calling you, how’s that sound?”

“Okay baby, I’d love that.” They go quiet for a second, Eddie pulling the blankets up to his chin as Richie shuffles around a bit, then clears his throat. “So, I think there’s a discussion that needs to happen.”

Eddie groans, and brings his hands up to cover his face. “Do we _have_ to?”

Richie snorts. “_Yeah_ we do, what was that about my hand? Care to elaborate on that?”

Eddie’s face is _red_, so so so red, and he hides in the blankets for a second even though there’s _no one around to see him_, before he finally sighs. “I just...I miss when you would put your hand over my mouth when—when we were living in the dorms and you had to make me _quiet_.”

Richie lets out a sharp exhale, and Eddie can almost hear him closing his eyes briefly to regain control over himself. “Okay, and you—I’m just guessing here—like that my hand takes up half of your face and, like you said, forces you to just...take it, huh?”

Eddie lets out a whine, he doesn’t even know _why_ because he’s so fucking tired there’s no way he could go again, and whispers a soft, “_Yeah_. Like when you make me feel small.”

Richie just laughs. “Oh baby, you _are_ small, it drives me fucking wild.”

Eddie giggles. “I know it does, you tell me all the time.”

“Well, I don’t want you to forget it.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think I ever could even if I wanted to.” Richie laughs again, this time softer, quieter, then, he yawns. Eddie glances at the clock on Richie’s side of the bed, and realizes it’s already _four_ for him, meaning it’s three in Chicago, and suddenly, he feels guilty. “Richie you should probably go back to sleep, you have a long day tomorrow, I shouldn’t have woke you up.”

Richie scoffs, and Eddie hears him settling back into bed. “Don’t you dare get all mopey on me Spaghetti, do you _know_ how sad I’d be if I’d just woken up to a picture instead of getting to do _this_?”

Eddie giggles, and just like that, the guilt is gone, and he’s back to being happy-sated. “Okay okay I get it, always wake you up at all hours of the morning for phone sex.”

Richie makes an affirmative noise. “And don’t you forget it darling.”

Eddie smiles. “I love you Richie.”

Richie’s smiling too, Eddie can tell. “I love you too Eds, now get some sleep.”

“You too babe.”

Eddie reaches out to hang up, because he knows if he doesn’t then Richie will just listen to him breathing until they both fall asleep and as sweet as that is it’s also ridiculous, but before he can, Richie’s voice comes through again, “Oh yeah, and baby?”

Eddie pauses. “Yeah?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you came without permission.”

Eddie’s gut _swoops_, his jaw drops, and Richie hangs up.

Fuck.

-

When Richie gets home Sunday night, Eddie waits just long enough for Richie to shut the door behind himself and drop his bag, before he throws himself into his arms and kisses him like he’s about to fucking _die_.

Because they’re on the same wavelength, and have been since they were fucking like, six years old or maybe even since birth, Richie immediately grabs Eddie’s waist _hard_ with both hands, and takes control over the kiss. It’s the longest ‘hello’ kiss ever, and also probably the _filthiest_, and when they finally break apart it's only because they remember they _need air to survive_.

They stare at each other for a long moment, just taking in each other’s faces, panting, until Richie’s features shift into a slow and lazy smirk, and he brings his hand up to grab Eddie’s chin. “How far do you wanna go tonight baby?”

Eddie grins back, and sways forward slightly in Richie’s grip, his hands fisting the fabric of Richie’s hoodie. He bats his eyelashes, and sticks his tongue out to lick delicately at the tip of Richie’s thumb that’s resting just below his lip, then just smiles up at him. Richie groans, looks up towards the ceiling and shuts his eyes as if he’s collecting himself, then uses his grip to tilt Eddie’s face up even further, the action effectively making Eddie feel even _smaller_ and reminding him of his place, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets out a soft moan.

He breathes out a soft, “However far you want, whatever you want Richie.” and it sounds so _breathy_, wanton even though Richie hasn’t even _done_ anything beyond touch him a little bit. He’d be ashamed but he _needs_ Richie to know just how affected he is by him, needs him to know how badly he needs this, _craves _him and his touch.

Richie hums, like he’s _thinking_, considering, then moves his thumb up so he’s rubbing at Eddie’s lower lip. Instinctively, Eddie’s mouth drops open, and he slowly blinks up at Richie, his eyelids feeling oh so _heavy_. Richie lets out a slow breath. “Look at that, you _do_ know how to stop being a _brat_ for once.” Eddie inhales sharply, his cheeks reddening and his eyes widening, and Richie fucking _laughs_. “What’s that look for baby? You _know_ you’re a brat.”

Eddie whimpers, and without his permission, finds himself _nodding_. “But I’m _your_ brat.”

Richie grins, and takes his hand away from Eddie’s chin with a jerk that pushes Eddie’s head _back_, with just enough force that it sends a jolt through Eddie’s fucking _core_. “Of _course_ you are sweetheart, always gonna be my fucking brat.”

Eddie grins back at him, the words, even as _harsh_ as they sound, washing over him like the best kind of praise. Richie gets this _look_ on his face, the one he usually makes right before he kisses Eddie, and Eddie’s _fully_ on board with that, because even though it’s only been a couple minutes it feels like _hours_ already since they kissed. 

Richie grabs Eddie’s waist again, then pulls him into another kiss, this one somehow even _more _than the first one was.

Eddie begins making _sounds_, little whimpers and breathy gasps whenever Richie _squeezes_ at his hips or his ass or whenever he bites at his lip. Eddie’s _hard_, so fucking turned on and ready for Richie to just take him apart, but if they were to stand here forever instead he doesn’t think he’d mind that either.

Eventually, Eddie lets out a particularly _needy_ sound, thrusts his hips up and into Richie’s, and Richie groans. Then, he’s pushing, fucking _shoves_ Eddie up against the wall, with just enough force that it slightly knocks the breath out of Eddie’s lungs, right there in their entryway, and then it’s like the metaphorical race has begun, because he wastes no time pulling Eddie’s shorts off.

Richie throws the shorts off to the side somewhere, then pulls his shirt off as well and tosses that god knows where as well. Eddie’s left standing completely bare, expecting Richie to begin taking his own clothes off next. 

Instead, Richie just undoes his belt, drops it to the floor, then steps forward, back into Eddie’s space—which, really, it’s Richie’s space as much as it is his own—and wraps his hands around Eddie’s thighs and _lifts_ him up. Presses his back even harder into the wall and _grinds_, the rough denim of his jeans and his shirt overwhelming and fucking _perfect_ against Eddie’s skin.

Eddie lets out a groan, his hands instinctively grabbing Richie’s shoulders even though he _knows_ from experience that Richie won’t drop him. Richie still looks so fucking _cocky_, and it’s hot as fuck, making Eddie feel so overwhelmed he doesn't know what to do with himself.

“Look at you sweetheart, you love this so much don’t you? Like when you can’t fucking move, when I make you take it don’t you?”

Eddie moans, can’t help the way he just nods, agrees like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I _do_ Richie, I love it, love how _big _you are.”

Richie groans, though it sounds more like a growl, from somewhere _deep_ inside his chest, and then he’s kissing Eddie again. He kisses him like he’s starving, like his very life depends on _devouring_ Eddie, and it’s so fucking good and perfect and _distracting_ that Eddie lets out a startled _gasp_ when he feels Richie pressing a slick finger to his hole. 

He throws his head back, his fingers digging into Richie’s shoulder as Richie pushes inside, the feeling already _bigger_ and so much more satisfying than Eddie’s own fingers could _ever_ be. Richie presses a kiss to his neck—open mouthed, _searing_—and the grip his other hand has on Eddie’s thigh tightens to the point that Eddie _knows_ there’ll be marks, new _claiming_ bruises for both of them to get turned on by in the next few days.

Richie gets him worked open quickly, both of them panting and desperate and Richie himself too _impatient_ to tease for once in his life. He gets three fingers inside Eddie before finally, _finally_ pressing a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, his hand thrusting fast and _hard_ as he whispers a rough, “Ready baby?”

Eddie whines, his hips bucking slightly into Richie’s hold as he nods. “_Yes_ Richie please, been waiting for _days_ I need you so _bad_.” Richie shushes him, his hand slowing, enough that Eddie lets out a disappointed _cry_ as Richie grins.

“What do you need baby? You need more fingers? My mouth? You need to use your words honey.”

Eddie groans. God, Richie’s fucking _evil_. “Need your _cock_ Richie, please I—I’ve only had my fingers the last _three days_ and they’re s-_small_ you know—” Richie moves his fingers, thrusts them _up_ and _in_ and Eddie breaks off with a whimper, his legs tightening around Richie’s _clothed_ waist. “Fuck me Richie _please, _please I can’t—”

Richie finally pulls his fingers out, with a wet sound and a _drag_ that makes Eddie want to cry, because as much as he needs Richie’s dick he also just _really_ needs Richie inside him. In any capacity. Sometimes he thinks Richie could stay inside him for _hours_ and it wouldn’t be enough.

Something on his face must show his desperation, because Richie makes a cooing sound, and it’s _mocking_ and it makes Eddie _sob_. 

“Oh sweetheart, you’re so fucking _desperate_ aren’t you?” Eddie sucks in a breath, and _nods_, because there’s no point in pretending. Richie gives him a serious look, though there’s _amusement_ in his eyes, and he finishes pulling his cock—_hard, long, mouthwatering—_out of his jeans. “Yeah baby, you’re so fucking _needy_ for me, not happy ‘til my cock’s filling you up isn’t that right?”

He guides himself inside, Eddie’s hands frantically grasping at the fabric of his shirt as he does. “_Yes_ Richie god fucking—always need you so fucking bad, need your cock every fucking day like—like I’m gonna fucking _die_ without it—” Richie _groans_, his hips fucking up like he can’t control himself, and Eddie lets out a relieved moan. “_Yes_ yes yes Rich I—fuck me fuck me _please_ just—”

Richie thrusts, begins moving, _fucking_ Eddie like he’s wanted to since Richie walked out the door literally three fucking days ago, and Eddie _screams_. He’s clawing at Richie’s back, knows there’ll be marks even through the shirt, he’s _crying_ and mewling and tucks his head into Richie’s shoulder because he feels like he’s going to fall _apart_ it feels so fucking _good_.

Apparently, Richie doesn’t like that, because he makes a deep, throaty noise, and shifts Eddie on his hips so he can bring one hand up to Eddie’s neck. He _grips_, not tight enough to choke like he sometimes will, but tight enough that he can use the grip to bring Eddie’s head back up and against the wall. He gives Eddie a smirk, thrusts _deep_, his hand sliding around to rest under his chin so Eddie’s staring directly at him. 

“_Listen_ to you baby, so fucking _loud_. You sound like such a whore, I wonder what the neighbors must think.”

Eddie whines. “_Rich_.”

Richie’s grip tightens momentarily, then he presses a filthy, _dirty_ kiss to Eddie’s open lips, seeming not to care that Eddie can’t get his thoughts together enough to return it. “I think I should shut you up honey, what about you?”

Eddie sucks in a breath, his stomach _burning_ at the realization that Richie’s going to…

“Whatever you want Richie.”

Richie grins. “That’s fucking _right_ baby, whatever I want, and you just have to listen and be quiet like a good boy, don’t you?”

Eddie moans, is going to answer Richie (_yes Richie please Richie whatever you say Richie_) but before he can get anything out, Richie’s hand is sliding up, covering his mouth, fucking _huge_ and making it so his inhales through his nose are even difficult, and begins to _fuck him_. He moves like he was _made _for it, hard and fast and pressing Eddie into the wall so hard it hurts in the best fucking way. 

Eddie’s still moaning, still whimpering and groaning like the slut he is, but it’s muffled and his breathing is short and he can’t help it, he brings his hands up to grip at Richie’s wrist and bicep.

He can _feel_ Richie’s muscles, how tense they are as he presses Eddie’s head back into the wall with so much _force_. Eddie probably couldn’t push him away if he _wanted _to, and the realization has his legs _squeezing_ at Richie’s waist and his eyes rolling back. Richie moans, uses his grip on Eddie’s thigh to hitch his leg up higher and moves faster. 

“There you go baby, _finally_ fucking quiet, finally found a way to shut your filthy mouth. Can’t fucking believe you’re such a whore for this.” Eddie keens, the noise loud even with Richie’s hand in front of his mouth, and Richie grins, even as he pants and fights against his own orgasm. “Still trying to be fucking loud though, wouldn’t fucking expect anything else from you honey. Come for me sweetheart, let’s see how loud you can get.”

Eddie _sobs_, fucking cries and reaches a hand out to grip at the front of Richie’s now drenched shirt, and _comes_. His back arches away from the wall, even with Richie’s hand firmly still pressing him against it, and he moans and whimpers and fucking loses track of everything that isn’t _Richie_.

As usual, Richie fucks him through it, chasing after his own pleasure even while Eddie cries from oversensitivity and eventually goes slack in Richie’s arms. Richie’s hand loosens, though it doesn’t leave Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie knows there’ll be hell to pay (probably when Richie gets around to punishing him for coming without permission over the phone) but he moves his head to the side, and lazily sucks two of Richie’s fingers into his mouth. He blinks slowly up at Richie, knows he must look fucking _ruined_, god knows Richie’s taken enough pictures and videos of him post-orgasm for him to know it. 

Richie breathes out a quiet, harsh breath, his hips snapping forward in an unpredictable rhythm. “_Fuck_ baby, you’re fucking—” He breaks off into a groan, loud and unrestrained, and comes, his hand leaving Eddie’s face—_yes_ Eddie whines—and landing on the wall next to Eddie’s head with a soft _thud_ as he presses close to Eddie and holds himself up through it.

Eddie must close his eyes, though he doesn’t remember doing so, because eventually Richie’s breathing evens out, and Eddie opens his eyes to look at Richie. He looks as content as Eddie feels, with a hint of _satisfaction_, and Eddie would be dreading the amount of smugness he’s going to have to put up with for the next couple weeks, if he didn’t enjoy it so much.

“Hey baby, you think you can walk?”

Eddie sniffs, realizes he’s still crying a little bit, and shakes his head. “Probably not.”

Richie huffs a laugh out through his nose, but nods. “Okay, hold on.” 

Eddie listens, moves his hands from where they’re resting lax at Richie’s sides to wrap around his neck, and Richie pushes away from the wall with a grunt, his grip adjusting minutely on Eddie’s thighs, then begins heading in the direction of the bathroom.

Eddie squirms happily in his grip. “Am I getting a bath?”

Richie’s smiling, Eddie knows he is, and he presses a soft kiss to the side of Eddie’s head. “As long as I can get in with you.”

Eddie giggles. “I don’t know, what if I want you to go get me food?”

“Well, guess I’d be going to get you food then, wouldn’t I?”

Eddie must still be coming down, because the sentence makes him tear up a little, and he buries his face in the crook of Richie’s neck. “You can come in with me.”

Richie laughs, softly, as he sets Eddie on the countertop—Eddie will _definitely_ yell at him for that, but later—and presses a kiss to his forehead. “I love you Spaghetti.”

Eddie smiles, and kisses the underside of Richie’s jaw. “I love you too.”

There’s a quiet moment, where Richie leans in and kisses him on the lips, soft and tender and so filled with _love_ it makes Eddie physically ache.

Then, he pulls away, and turns to start the bathwater. “Of course you love me baby, I’m a fucking _sex god_.”

Eddie groans, and covers his face with his hands. “I told you that _once_ while I was _high_ you dickwad.”

Richie laughs, the evil bastard, as he drops a bathbomb into the water and saunters back over to Eddie. “And I’m _never_ gonna fucking forget it baby.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but lets Richie pull him up and over to the bathtub, and forgets all about the teasing as soon as his body touches the soothing warm water.

_“Fuck_ I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.”

Richie huffs. “What and I’m not? I don’t think we’re gonna be leaving the bed tomorrow.”

He climbs in behind Eddie, finally rid of his clothes, and Eddie sighs as he rests against him. “God we definitely won’t be if I have any say in it.”

Richie hums. “You have _all_ the say sweetheart.”

Eddie laughs, and nods. “Damn right I do babe.”

**Author's Note:**

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